The Campus Guard

Just then, I heard a faint rustling outside. I stepped out at once to check. There, by the wall, a guy was trying to climb over, clearly intending to slip out.

I raised my flashlight and shone it on him, calling out sharply, "Hey, what do you think you're doing? Campus rules state that no one is allowed to leave at night!"

The guy turned around, startled, and in the beam of light, I finally saw his face. It was the same dude I had just run into in the grove. What was he doing, trying to sneak out at this hour?

He stammered, "S-Sir, I'm not a student here. Just let me go, alright?"

That caught me off guard. I frowned, puzzled. "I just saw you in the grove earlier. Now, you're saying you're not a student here. Why should I believe that?"

He looked like he was on the verge of tears. He pleaded repeatedly, "I'm telling the truth, sir! I really don't go here! I just came to meet a chick, that's all! If you want, I can introduce you—"

"Alright, cut it out! What a load of nonsense!" I said, keeping a straight face. "This is a campus, not some kind of brothel! Please watch your language!"

Deep inside, excitement had begun to bubble. The image of that female student from earlier flashed through my mind. I had heard rumors about people coming and going here for all kinds of reasons.

Could I really have hit the jackpot and run into something like that tonight?

The guy quickly pulled out his ID and held it up for me to see. "Look, I'm 25. I've already graduated. I'm not an active student here. If you let me go, I'll pass her contact info to you."

When he mentioned the female student, his tone shifted, growing more animated.

His hands moved as he tried to explain, as though eager to convince me. "Her rack was to die for—oh my gosh. I could barely hold them with my hands."

He went on and on, describing it in vivid detail, even smacking his lips as if he were reliving the moment.

The way he talked stirred something restless in me. I was already on edge, and he was only making things worse for me.

"Is what you said true?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He thumped his chest. "Of course! I've got the transfer record right here."

He pulled out his phone and showed me a payment of 1000 dollars. By then, I believed most of what he had said.

"Fine. I'll let you off this time," I said, waving my hand. "But don't let me catch you again."

The guy thanked me profusely, then quickly climbed over the wall and disappeared into the night. Afterward, I went back to the security room and sat down.

Somehow, his words kept echoing in my mind, leaving me fidgety.

Frankly, I wanted to do it once with a college student. That way, I wouldn't have any regrets left in life. However, the cost alone made me hesitate.

I only earned about 3000 dollars a month as a guard, and I still had to send some money home. There was barely anything left to save, let alone spend like that.

For the next few days, I couldn't settle down. My mind kept circling back to that night. Whenever I saw someone dressed rather boldly, I found myself assuming they were in shady businesses.

At work, I became stricter, too, keeping a close eye on anyone coming in from outside and stopping anyone who seemed suspicious. After a while, some of the ladies on campus became impatient.

One night, I was on duty as usual, sitting in the security room and watching videos of pretty women, when someone knocked on the window.

I stood up to look, and it was the same female student I had seen in the grove—Ms. Bombshell.

She was dressed up more than usual. Her tight dress was barely covering her butt. Her legs were wrapped in seductive pantyhose. For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

What was she doing, knocking on my window so late at night?

Through the window, she called out, "Mr. Ziegler, I need your help."

"What is it at this hour?" I asked.

She stepped inside the room, walking over with a casual gait, then stopped close by. Resting her hands lightly on my shoulders, she said softly, "Could you let me out tonight? Just this once, hm?"